


Extra Credit

by Saesama



Series: Kick in the Head [4]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: First Time, Other, Plug and Play, Spark Sex, The Matrix is a jerk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 20:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saesama/pseuds/Saesama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vulnerability is not always a bad thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extra Credit

Megatron let himself into the Prime's quarters, glaring at the figure behind the wide desk. "Decatron," he said, the name of a previous Lord High Protector falling from his vocal processors in disgust. "Was an _idiot_."

"So you've said before," Optimus Prime replied, not looking up from his datapad. "What has he done now?"

Megatron paced irritably before the great, curved window that looked over Iacon. "According to the great Decatron," he said, gesturing at the crystal pane. "There are thirty-six ways that an assassin could get through this window and kill you. There are forty-five ways he could come in through the floor, sixty-three ways he could come in through the ceiling, and one-hundred seventy five ways through the walls. He was so damnably paranoid about Contimus Prime's life that I've become fairly certain that Contimus debated hiring his own assassin to kill him and let him rest without Decatron's guards constantly around. And all the would-be assassin had to do was walk in the door, because Decatron deemed that 'assassins do not use such niceties as doors in their evil deeds'. Idiot!"

"He was never known for his common sense," Optimus said absently. "Contimus Prime, either."

Megatron carefully examined his brother, taking in the stiffness in his limbs that said he'd been in one position for too long, the faint irritation set in his face that said he really wasn't enjoying whatever he was looking at. "Seems the trait is inherited," Megatron said. "How long have you been here?"

Annoyance flashed across the Prime's faceplates, smoothed away with little effort, and Megatron figured that whatever Optimus was working on, it was boring him half to death. "Not long enough to get this done," Optimus answered waspishly, confirming Megatron's suspicion. "And I'd appreciate working on it without a distraction."

Knowing Optimus, what he was going over was probably negotiation rituals for whatever planet the Council wanted them to trade with next. Megatron stalked over to the desk, deftly plucking the datapad from his brother's hands. "This," he said formally, waving the pad. "Takes second place to your health, my Prime. As Lord High Protector, your life is my chief responsibility, and I refuse to allow you to compromise your health by not taking the best of care of yourself, up to and including not staring at one datapad so long your processor locks up from boredom." He set the datapad face down on the desk, well out of the Prime's reach.

Optimus sighed, pushing back from the desk to look up at his brother. "It's amazing I get anything done," he grumped, but Megatron could hear the relief beneath the annoyance. "What with you 'refusing to allow me to compromise my health' so often."

"When I start tasking minibots with testing the floors for bombs every time you walk somewhere, you can yell at me about it," Megatron replied, pointedly scooting the datapad further away as he walked around the end of the desk. Optimus chuckled, carefully standing and working out the stiffness in his cabling. His stretch was aborted by a hiss of pain as a locomotion cable twisted on itself, locking his arm into place.

Megatron moved before Optimus could, taking the Prime's wrist in one hand and digging beneath his shoulder armor with the other, finding the kink and carefully working it loose. Optimus sighed in relief, his perfect posture slumping in a way that few even suspected possible, his optics flickering when the kinked cable flipped back on itself, settling into place again. Megatron soothed the soreness from the cable without thought, claws careful against delicate wiring, and he didn't realize how his actions could be interpreted until Optimus quaked in a slow shudder, then gave him a long look.

Oh. Really, his brother needed to do something about the incredible sensitivity of the wiring in his shoulders. 

They didn't interface often, and Megatron knew that was almost completely his fault. He had been programmed for war and intrigue, and laying down the myriad of physical and mental defenses he carried, even around the one mech he trusted above all others, did not come easy. Knowing this, Optimus didn't offer too often, and even then, most of those were turned down or ignored.

But when he could allow himself to do so, being so close to Optimus allowed him to relax and forget his troubles, just for a little while. Frustrated and annoyed as he was, nothing seemed more appealing. He countered his brother's look with a slight smile and twisted the thumb under the Prime's armor, scraping along a wiring splice and Optimus let out a choked cry of intermingled surprise and delight.

Optimus firmly, almost stubbornly pulled him into an embrace, his head resting on Megatron's shoulder and nimble fingers tracing the edges of his wing arrays. "I'm not going to bolt, idiot," Megatron murmured into the top of the Prime's head, but there was affection beneath the words and he returned the embrace anyway. "You don't have to hold me here."

"Sometimes, I doubt that," Optimus replied dryly, tweaking an energon line and making Megatron jump. "Though I'm sure you'd enjoy being chased."

Megatron made a rude noise, getting his fingers back beneath the other's shoulder armor and poking sensitive connections in retaliation. "The Council would love that," he replied sarcastically. "Yes, Lord Trion, the ruling brothers certainly _were_ chasing each other through the Spire like a pair of horny, over-energized younglings, why do you ask?'" 

Optimus laughed, the sound muffled by Megatron's armor, and Megatron took the opportunity to shuffle them towards the low berth in the corner. He found it with the backs of his legs, and allowed his brother to gently push him down on it. "I'd tell them we were living the childhood we missed out on," Optimus said, climbing up beside him.

"Because that's a valid excuse," Megatron muttered, drawing Optimus close. 

They lay on their sides facing each other, powerful hands almost gentle as they explored. Optimus was particularly determined to make Megatron writhe, singling out the broad cords that controlled the Lord High Protector's wings with tender ferocity. Megatron shuddered and bucked, reduced to clutching at the Prime's shoulders and forcing himself to not claw at the other in unfettered ecstasy. Optimus ignored the sharp talons so close to several vital systems, pushing Megatron over on his back as he continued his assault, his optics bright with devotion and trust, all shields down and Megatron could only offer the same in return, finally letting go of all of his usual reservations. Only Optimus could do this to him, only Optimus could push him back with the lightest touch and make him wiggle and groan, and, Primus, and _beg_ for release; no shame, no embarrassment, no regrets.

His first overload was a surprise, the second only slightly less so and he dug deep furrows in the berth beneath him to keep from planting his claws in his brother's back instead. Fighting up from under the sensor-swamping pleasure, he dragged Optimus down against him, splayed on top of him in a way that should have been awkward but they fit like a puzzle, armored edges catching just so to keep them almost locked together. Megatron touched everything he could reach, scratching faint glyphs into his brother's armor; their names entwined in the symbol that represented their joined rule, their union, over and over. Optimus was always the more vocal one and his moans reverberated through them both, sweet counterpoint to the way he arched and shifted, interlocked armor aborting his movements and making him tremble with the need to _move_ , and when he overloaded, his vocalizer shorted to static in the middle of his cry.

Shuddering through snapping aftershocks, Optimus pushed himself up with his hands on either side of Megatron's shoulders, not quite an embrace. "Megatron, I," he murmured, shifting his weight so he could trail his hand down the center of Megatron's chest. "If you are willing. I would share my spark with you." 

Megatron went painfully still at those words. Never before had he opened his spark chamber to anyone. To connect his spark to another's, to drop that last shield and allow Optimus to feel his very emotions as if they were his own, to be as close as two mechs could possibly be-

Optimus must have seen something in his expression, because he drew his hand away, settling at Megatron's hip instead. "It is okay," Optimus said gently. "I understand if you-"

"I didn't say no," Megatron interrupted. He dug his fingers into the axels at the Prime's hips, holding him in place. "Just... you do know what that means, right? All of your emotions will be open to me. Are you sure you want, want to," He trailed off, unable to find the words he wished to say.

"I trust you," Optimus whispered fiercely. "With my spark, with everything."

"I trust you, too," Megatron returned, almost defensively. He took a long, slow intake of air, vents flaring as he settled his nerves. "Yes. I will."

Optimus shifted to straddle his thighs, and Megatron kept his hold on his brother's hips, steadying him. "Have you ever?" Megatron questioned, stroking absently at the tires beneath his hands.

"No," Optimus said, his hands splayed across Megatron's abdomen for support. "I... I offered, to Ironhide, before I knew exactly what it entailed. He declined," he continued honestly. "Aside from Sentinal, when I took the Matrix, I've never opened my spark chamber.

"Hm." A little painful, hearing that, but he preferred the truth, anyway. He moved his hands up, hesitant at the lower edge of the Prime's chest plates. "What about the Matrix, then?" he prodded. "It will not pass to me, will it?"

"Do not worry about the Matrix," Optimus said. "It will not pass on until I ask it to do so."

Megatron nodded his understanding and slowly walked his hands up his brother's body. "Will you show me?" he asked, stroking the seam down the center of the chest beneath his hands. Optimus nodded, and though he suddenly looked unsure, and possibly a little scared, his chest split anyway. The enameled panels slid down and back, revealing a dark bronze spark chamber etched with gold tracery. Megatron reached up and followed one of the gold lines with just the tip of his claw. "The Matrix?" he asked quietly.

"Part of it," Optimus confirmed, a slight hitch in his voice. He gently took Megatron's hand in his own, tangling their fingers. Visibly gathering himself, and gathering strength from their joined hands, Optimus locked optics with Megatron and opened his spark chamber.

Iridescent light spilled from his chest, throwing rainbowed halos around every reflective surface it touched. Megatron stared, awestruck, at the tiny nova of power that was his brother's very being. He reached up with his other hand, stopping just shy of the corona of light, suddenly afraid of doing harm. Optimus squeezed his hand, drawing his optics. "I trust you," the Prime repeated.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Megatron replied tightly. Dropping his gaze back to the spark, he flexed his hand briefly before dipping one finger past the chamber edges and into the glow.

A searing blast of energy shot up his arm, deliriously good even as it threatened to scorch his processor. With it came the faintest ghost of emotions not his own; fear, and excitement, and spiraling desire. Above him, Optimus arched, his body straining against itself and his mouth opened in a silent scream. Alarmed, Megatron drew back to clutch at the other's shoulder instead. "Optimus! Are you-"

"Do that again," Optimus demanded, looking back down with optics that fairly blazed. "Primus, Megatron, please do that again."

Frowning a little, Megatron did as asked, steeling himself against the energy backwash so that he could watch the Prime's reactions. Optimus voiced his pleasure most clearly, encouraging Megatron with gasping words and pleads. Emboldened, Megatron carried further, sinking his whole hand into the spark, drawing back, teasing along the inner circumference of the chamber and back into the brightest part of the light.

Optimus went silent again, his hand grasping Megatron's with painful strength as he overloaded, a razor-sharp current spike arcing from his body and passing through Megatron's legs on its way to the berth, leaving them both quaking in the aftermath. Megatron carefully disengaged both of his hands to catch Optimus by the shoulders as the Prime slumped forward. "Still alive?" Megatron prodded.

"Barely," Optimus groaned, barely able to push himself up on one hand. " _Primus_ , Megatron, that was _wonderful_." He carefully touched the middle of Megatron's chest, scratching along the silver plating. "Can I return the favor?"

"Always," Megatron replied, hoping his own apprehension wasn't audible in his voice. He split his outer and inner armors together, adding to the ever-shifting light with that of his own spark. Optimus didn't touch for a long moment, and when he did, it was with a reverence that hung somewhere between flattering and humbling; a slow prayer etched not in words but physical touch and Megatron all of a sudden understood why Optimus had been screaming without sound. His every neural wire felt like it was melting and shattering and turning into pure lightning in his limbs all at once, the same sensation he'd felt when Optimus touched his spark but multiplied, magnified. He couldn't even precisely call it a good feeling, in itself; it was too intense, too uncontrolled. But because it was Optimus, with all of his care and empathy and desire, because it was Optimus touching him it _became_ good. No, better than good, far better.

He wondered if it could possibly become even more.

"Optimus," he rasped, catching the hand within his chest. Optimus looked at him in alarm, and he pulled the smaller mech back down on top of him. "Join with me," he half-whispered.

Optimus nodded, bracing his hands on Megatron's shoulders. Megatron moved his hands to help support his brother's weight as he lowered, and he could feel the faintest touch of the other's spark as they grew closer. Their optics met and held again, and Optimus sank the last tick, the edges of their chest cavities lining up as their sparks met.

_Primus!_

Oh, it was perfection, it was ecstasy, it was everything. It wasn't even physical sensation anymore; the physical felt a world away, and it was just Optimus around him and within him, unfiltered by gestures and words and programming and-

All of a sudden, Optimus was gone, pushed aside by something far larger. Megatron fought it instinctively, reaching out for his brother's presence, dimly aware that he was digging his claws into his brother's shoulders as a physical anchor. The huge something swarmed him, left him unable to move, unable to think straight, and he realized what it was with cold dread.

The Matrix.

Millions of vorns of weighted experience loomed over him, forcing his spark to submit. He tried to reason with it, tried to explain that he didn't want the Matrix to pass to him, that this wasn't a Challenge, but he was ignored. The Matrix unraveled the bands of emotion in his spark, examining them, sorting them. His feelings for his brother were on one side; the concern, the protectiveness, the trust he gave quietly but freely, the love he'd never admit out loud to, the utter devotion that could drive him to giving up his own life for the other. 

The other side was also concerned with Optimus, but far less pleasant; jealousy, possessiveness, contempt for the Prime's pacifism, the faint but there disgust he felt at the friendships Optimus had with mechs and foreign creatures so obviously his inferiors. Anything else was discarded, and the Matrix seemed to pour over those two groups, silently judging. 

_**/You disapprove of a great deal of what he does and how he acts. Why, then, do you care so much?/** _

Such a weighted question, and some days, Megatron had thought it himself. / _Because he is my brother, and he will always_ be _my brother, no matter how obnoxious he gets_ /

Approval buffeted him, swept him up on wings of light and all of a sudden the Matrix was gone and Optimus returned, full of fear and worry and sick, knotted desperation-

The connection broke; the only sounds the whirling of their cooling fans and Optimus pleading for him to be all right.

"It accepted me," Megatron interrupted Optimus mid-prayer. "It looked at how I- how you affect me, and it accepted me." He realized his claws had punched deep holes into his brother's shoulder armor and he winced, carefully withdrawing his hands. "Optimus, I didn't mean to-"

"Never mind about that," Optimus said, shifting as to sit upright but loathe to let go just yet. "Primus, Megatron, if I had thought, if I had any inkling that the Matrix would react in such a way-"

"It _accepted_ me," Megatron repeated insistently. "I think it's just protecting you, but it let me through, in the end."

Optimus frowned, troubled. "I don't think we should try this again," he said tightly, sitting back. "I don't want to risk-"

Megatron linked his hand behind the Prime's neck, dragging him back down. "It's worth it," Megatron said fiercely. He wiggled his other hand between them, smearing energon from his claws across azure armor, but Optimus arched most beautifully when he grazed the edge of his spark chamber. "If I have to go through that every time, it's worth it."

"It's not," Optimus returned quietly. "I felt nothing when you were judged, but my memory circuits are still whole. I remember what the Matrix's judgment feels like. I cannot subject you to that."

"I don't think my trial was as harsh as yours, anyway," Megatron countered. Optimus wavered, plainly unsure, and Megatron couldn't resist pressing an advantage, sliding the very tips of his fingers through his brother's spark. "And even if it was, I don't care. Please, Optimus."

Optimus softened, stretching back out to align their sparks again. "Maybe once was enough," he murmured as Megatron drew his hand out of the way.

"Maybe," Megatron agreed nebulously. He shivered a little in anticipation; despite his words, the sensations of the Matrix rifling through his emotions was highly unpleasant, and if being so close to Optimus hadn't been so pleasurable, he'd have avoided a second judgment like the scrapplets. Before he could have second thoughts, he pulled Optimus close again.

The Matrix was waiting for him, and Megatron's spark fell. Were Prime's never supposed to indulge in this act? But no, it just touched him, just enough to recognize him and then all traces of the Matrix were gone and Optimus was there again. Megatron felt a doubled spike of joy from them both as they sank together, emotions and limbs a tangle until it was difficult to separate one from the other.

It was perfection.


End file.
